


A lone wolf won't survive alone.

by Bookemdanno98



Category: Band of Brothers
Genre: M/M, World War II
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-22
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21524662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bookemdanno98/pseuds/Bookemdanno98
Summary: George Luz, a paratrooper in Easy Company, finds himself in quite the predicament during his first jump into enemy lines.Injured, alone and scared he must find his way back to his brothers.But will he get to see them again or will something prevent such a reunion.Will George ever see Joe Toye again or will his love go unconfessed to his grave?Will George live to tell the tale?
Relationships: George Luz/Joseph Toye
Comments: 14
Kudos: 26





	1. The Jump

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone!! 
> 
> This has been in the working for such a long time it's unbelievable and I still only have part of it written. But I figure if I start posting this and people are interested then it may give me the motivation to write more 🤣
> 
> Anyway this will be a LuzToye fanfiction so be warned it's not entirely realistic to the time.
> 
> The characters may be ooc but I mean no disrespect to the real life men who served in Easy. I am using the imagery of the show more than the real life men. 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own BOB or anything to do with it.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this small start! 😌

George's POV: 

Jumping out of a plane had always been exhilarating for George Luz.

Jumping made him feel strong and invincible, filled him with adrenaline and sent his heart soaring.

It felt as if he could fly, as if all his worries were swept away with the wind leaving nothing but a whimsical feeling of joy.

All in all, George loved to jump. He loved the thrill and loved being weightless, almost like he was a feather gliding in the breeze.

But what he didn't love was landing.

It terrified George more than he would ever admit.

At first it had been the fear of heights which scared George, but after his first jump and he finally lay his eyes on the new perspective of blue skies and green fields, George had decided heights wasn't all that scary anymore. 

But as he jumped out of the plane again and again, he quickly discovered his hate or rather his fear of what came after the 'jump'.

There were many valid reasons for George's fear of landing.

He'd once witnessed a young Texan man break his legs while maneuvering a landing, the snap of his bones still resonating in George's nightmares.

Plus there was the fact that in reality they had no idea where they would be landing, and it scared George to his core. Not knowing what he was landing into sent chills through George.

Yes, George and the other Easy members had been thoroughly trained and were taught to study maps and knew tactics and plans off by heart but they'd never actually landed in foreign terrain, only theorised and experienced 'war' on familiar ground.

They didn't have the experience of landing behind enemy lines at all, and for as much studying he had done, war torn Europe was to be much different then of what they'd learnt. 

The men of Easy were prepared to land somewhere they knew only through maps and ariel images.

They had no real knowledge and first hand experience of what it was like over there and nothing could really prepare them for it.

And as George jumped from his plane on the night of June the 6th, what he saw was definitely completely different in real time then back in England and in his classes. 

The world looked so different up high and all the landmarks he'd forced himself to remember, looked unrecognisable. 

There were blur's of grey and dull coloured buildings, that looked like every other building around it.

The roads all looked identical, the same windy, dirt tracks that went on for miles.

There were fields after fields of open farmland that had nothing recognisable or distinct, only cow's and sheep grazing peacefully, unaware of the battle around them.

And that was all of what he could see, shadows and outlines of vague landmarks barely visible through the dark sky.

And to make it worse, George could only make out most of that due to the the flashes of bullets, explosions and the search lights the Germans were using.

It was useless really, he had now idea were he was landing, he just hoped it was near the drop zone.

George tried to follow his fellow paratrooper but while focused on dodging the German bullets and flying shrapnel, it was easy to loose the man before him, easy to loose Lieutenant Walsh through the sea of parachutes and bullets. 

In fact trying to survive the rain of bullets was so occupying to George he didn't realise how close to the ground he actually was until massive trees were merely meters away from his descending body. 

He didn't have the time to even curse before a gust of wind hurled him straight towards the trees at a frightening speed, sending the young man perilously towards danger.

This was exactly why George hated landing.


	2. Crash landing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George lands in enemy territory but can you really call it a landing?...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> It's been a fair amount of time since I updated this and I have no real excuse, especially now I'm in lockdown but I guess I'm just lazy, lol :)
> 
> So anyway I hope you enjoy this small chapter and I hope to update sooner this time XD
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Band of Brothers or anything to do with it :(

  
George Luz was well and truly screwed; so screwed in fact he'd rather just run at Kraut gun-less than face the odds he was against.   
  
The size of the forest below was simply too vast for George to avoid and he knew it was inevitable that he'd land within the trees.

He tried to manoeuvre himself towards the edge of the forest to lessen the chance of colliding into a tree but the weight of his equipment made his descent too fast. He couldn't do shit about it and the trees were getting ever closer to the panicked man.  
  
George was no betting man but if he was to put money on it, he would guarantee the next few minutes would not be pretty.

The young Paratrooper readied himself for impact, closing his eyes and covering his face the best he could, trying to prevent as much damage to his head and face.

He could feel the trees skimming his legs now, leaves brushing against his sides like a gentle caress.

His heart was pounding with fear, scared of what would happen, terrified of dying; from being impaled or being trapped in the trees awaiting his death.

He tried to prepare himself for the pain, tried to contain any sounds he'd inevitable make, to try and not give away his position to the enemy.

But in the end all his struggle's would become fruitless.  
  
The man couldn't help the scream of pain at the initial impact into a tree, the agony of his torso smashing into a trees branch a bright flash of pain, spreading across his torso like a flame across fuel.  
  
Blinding pain was all he felt, as if the world had shrunk down to only his agony, frozen in a painful haze, the crash of his body a torturous standstill; almost as if time had frozen. But in reality, time hadn't stopped but it was his body which had come to a standtill, caught around the tree's branch before gravity caught up to him.

His body dropped backwards then, and with the man being too shocked and out of breath, he hadn't even thought to try and catch himself.

He was free falling downwards, branches and bark catching against his tender skin, scraping and grazing his flesh with stinging whips, the power of their touch even ripping through parts of his uniform.

He could already feel the warmth of blood trickling down his skin, seeping into his clothing and staining his dark uniform.

His body was thrown around left and right, jostled as his chute got caught in the trees, ripping with the momentum of his fall, barely slowing him.

But then, finally when he was merely 3 feet or so from the ground, his body came to a shuddering halt.  
  
His parachute had gotten caught on a large branch, as if the tree had reached out and caught him midair, it's arms gripping his chute with a violent halt.  
  
George's pain filled body couldn't keep up, and the man merely swung there for a few minutes, gasping for air and eyes wide with shock, rigid and still in his fear.

He couldn't believe he'd actually survived the terrible jump.  
  
George had heard plenty of horror stories over his years from other paratroopers but he was overjoyed he did not end up dead like some had in those stories.

He swayed there for a couple more minutes, his body trying to catch up with what happened before he jolted into action.

He couldn't remain hanging from a tree for long.  
  
He knew his friends would never find him this way, dangling in the middle of some strange forest and he certainly knew that if the Kraut's came across him they wouldn't hesitate to kill.

He'd be an easy target just swaying from a tree and the Kraut's wouldn't show any mercy, wouldn't give him any chance of survival.

George quickly reached above him, tugging at the parachutes straps in an attempt to shake himself out of the tree but the chute didn't budge an inch, it's sturdy material ensnared with the branches.

"Fuck" He swore, while his hands which still trembled from shock, reached down for the clasp which secured him to his parachute.

If he could get that loose, then he'd be able to fall the remaining distance to the safety of the forest floor.

George desperately fiddled and pulled at the clasp, cursing when at first it wouldn't come loose, swearing up a storm as the clunky equipment simply wouldn't give.

But then, finally after what felt like hours, he heard the distinct clink of the clasp coming apart, the sound echoing airily in the otherwise silent night, the sound of warfare a concerningly low mumble in the distance.

But the relief didn't last long for once more his body was jolted into falling, going airborne for a few short seconds before he reached the blessed floor.

But George couldn't help the gasp of shock, couldn't help the cry of fear as he once again fell.

He tried gather himself and manoeuvre his body to land as he was trained, but training hadn't prepared him to land from dropping out of a tree, and you could call his landing less than smooth.

His legs buckled beneath him when his feet touched the floor, his body slamming into the wet and muddy ground below him, his already delicate ribs smashing into the floor.

He let out another shout of agony, feeling another crack of his ribs, which by itself was concerning, but when he felt a tearing sensation along his left arm, he knew he was in some trouble.

It was then, as his body came to a stand still, laying face down on the soft grass, was when all of the pain hit him with full force, making him want to curl up and sob but he knew he'd have to move soon.  
  
But as he attempted to move his arm, pain shot through him once more and he crashed back to the soil with a soft wimper. 

It was official. George Luz didn't just hate landing anymore, he absolutely despised them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And there we have it, chapter 2! 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Please leave a comment down below if you did, it means the world to me!
> 
> Leave a kudos if you're feeling extra spicy, lol ;) 
> 
> Until next time!
> 
> \- Bookemdanno98 xx


	3. Spotted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happen's to George next? Is he really safe now?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! 
> 
> Well look at me go, a fairly fast update? Shocking. *Pat's self on the back*
> 
> Just want to say a huge thank you to my readers for actually taking the time to read this fic! Wasn't sure if anyone actually would :)
> 
> Big shoutout to Murreleteer and lucas2828 for commenting, really gave me the motivation to get my ass in gear and keep updating :) 
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Band of Brothers or anything to do with it, just a huge fan :) 
> 
> Anyway onwards!

It took George another gruelling few minutes until his pain lessened, until he felt like he could move without passing out and the young man knew he didn't have much time to spare.   
  
He'd made entirely too much sound for his liking, and he knew if any Germans were around, they would have, without a doubt heard his not so graceful landing.  
  
The distant sounds of warfare had done nothing to smother his shouts of pain, and George knew how truly loud he'd been.

He couldn't have prevented it and the inevitably that he had drawn their attention hung heavy of his mind.

He needed to get his ass moving; he currently was just a sitting duck ready to be killed. 

And then as if they'd heard his thoughts, thick German accented voices echoed into the air.

They sounded like multitudes of voices and George just knew he was fucked.

It was just his luck, it had to be a battalion of Nazi's and not a single soldier.

One or two soldiers, George could possibly take on but a whole Platoon? It was impossible.  
  
George was honestly frozen in terror, and it was only when a singular voice rang through the air, loud, angry and demandingly, that the young man finally started to move. 

The voice sounded so terrifying to the lone paratrooper and he couldn't help wishing Joe Toye was there to fight them off with his fierce glare alone.

The thought of Joe Toye made him smile through the pain, the memory of the taller man pushing him on, making him struggle to his feet, swaying dangerously before he managed to stabilize himself on the very tree he crashed through.  
  
He stumbled through his first few steps, his ribs screaming in protest and his left wrist searing in agony as he moved the fragile limb.

Then, as the voices of the German soldiers came ever closer, George finally forced his body to finally start moving.

Grunting with pain as he went and gritting his teeth to keep the sounds he made to a minimum, George finally left his dreaded landing zone.

His body at this point was shaking from the effort it took to even move an inch but George knew he's die if he didn't.

The German voice, who George figured was the commanding officer, was much closer now as if he and his men were only a few hundred feet away.  
  
The thought alone was enough of a motivation to George and he quickly bolted into action.  
  
He took off running, lunging forwards as if he was a part of a race and the gunshot he could hear behind him wasn't one of the Nazi's, but one signalling the start of a marathon.

But in George's reality he couldn't hope for such a fantasy, for those shots were narrowly missing his injured body.  
  
The paratrooper tried his best to weave between the trees to attempt and lessen the chance of being shot and to make himself a harder target to hit.

But by the sounds of bullets whizzing past his head and the bark splintering from the trees around him, the manoeuvring wasn't doing much.

Grass and soil flew into the air surrounding him as multiple bullets barely skim his feet, 

George didn't know how long he ran for; dodging behind trees and narrowly missing the bullets destined for his body, but the pounding of his feet thumping against the floor became a comforting one.   
  
He tuned out the shouts of the Germans and blanked the gunshots from his brain, determined not to be a victim of his enemy.  
  
It felt like hours had passed, but when he finally came across a rail road track he couldn't help feel overjoyed.

Finally something he could recognise, at last a way to find his brothers.

But first, he knew he had to loose the Germans who were chasing him.

The young man quickly made a scramble towards the bushes that grew on the side of the railtrack, hunkering low and curling painfully into himself to make himself as small as possible.

He lay hiding for merely a couple of minutes before he heard the German voices come ever closer, his heart thumping again at the fear of being caught.

The same furious voice as George had heard earlier was shouting so close to him now and George could even make out his figure through the bushes, the darkness making his form even more forboding.  
  
The man sounded so angry that George had to stop himself flinching at the sound of him snapping what George could only presume were rebuking remarks, the words even in German sounding like reprimands.  
  
George could only hope it meant they had lost his trail and that he was safe for the current time.  
  
Then, the commanding officer was shouting once more, his voice booming as he gave his men their next orders, body trembling with anger.

George quickly figured the man was not happy to have lost him and the young man couldn't help the sense of pride; he'd successfully evaded his men.   
  
Soon, the sound of footsteps started to leave, heading down the rail way tracks, right towards where George was hoping to escape too.

George swore under his breath, cursing the fucking Nazis and mentally stabbing Hitler so many times he would be unrecognizable.  
  
Was it really so impossible for some luck to come his way?  
  
Of all the places, the Nazi's had to go and fuck up his plan.  
  
George let out a trembling sigh once the last set of footsteps faded into the distance; the sound both in relief and fear.

He was finally safe from the Germans but how long would it take for another platoon or Nazi to find him?  
  
The relief was so overpowered by the fear he felt and George couldn't help the sudden deep longing for home.

George wanted to be back to the safety of America.

And in that moment, huddled in the bushes, scared and alone he could only wish and dream of home.  
  
He'd been in the war for less than a single night and already he wanted the comfort of his mother and the strength and the love of his sisters.  
  
His mother was the pillar of his life, the strong and kind woman who'd raised him, comforted him and scolded him. She was the woman who slaved away to keep her children fed, who hid her own sorrows to keep her children happy. 

She was the best mother a child could ask for and George missed her dearly. 

And God how George missed his beloved siblings.  
  
He missed his youngest sister, Sorin, and that dazzling smile which seemed to wash away any of his troubles.

He missed his elder sister, Grace and her comforting aura and unyielding patience and guidance.  
  
He ached for snarky Beth's sarcastic responses and Jessica's stupid pranks.   
  
He just missed them so terribly, yearned for the support and friendship of his siblings provided and George felt as if a limb was missing without them.  
  
They had all depended so heavily on him after his father's death and it had felt so wrong leaving them behind, so wrong not to be there to support them and to have it returned.

But he knew that him going to war meant keeping them safe and that thought seemed to give him a boost of courage.  
  
He needed to keep moving and get to the safety of his Company even if only for them.  
  
And with that thought he willed himself back to his feet.

He needed to protect his family.  
  
And more so he needed to getup and find his brothers in arms.

He had no time to shrivel into a ball and cower, he had people who depended on him.

He had friends, family even, out there right at that moment who needed him, brothers who could be hurt or in danger, family who he couldn't loose.

He had formed bonds with the men he'd met nearly three years before, and thinking of them was the final push he needed.

They'd fight through anything, take pain and cause pain for him and George wouldn't let them down.  
  
He would stop at nothing to get back to their sides.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And another chapter down! 
> 
> I really hope you enjoyed this chapter!
> 
> Please leave a comment if you want to, I love a cheeky comment or two ;) 
> 
> Kudos and bookmarks are cool too i guess :P
> 
> Thanks for reading! 
> 
> \- Bookemdanno98 xx


	4. On the move

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George is back on his feet.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Another update for ya'll!
> 
> Shout out to my those of you who commented during the last chapter, it really motivated me to get writing so thanks for reading and supporting me through this fic!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I do not own Band of Brothers.
> 
> Anyway.... Onwards!

The young Paratrooper struggled to get back on the railway tracks, feet slipping on the mud as he scrambled away from the bushes up the ditch and onto the tracks.

  
George hadn't the foggiest idea of where he was stood but he figured following the tracks was his best bet.

The young man also quickly deducted that if the Nazi's were heading down the tacks they must have been doing so for a reason, maybe to move in on the American troops.  
  
And so, George quickly decided to follow the footsteps the Germans had left behind, he figured even if they didn't lead him to his brothers at least he had a chance of being led to a town where the Nazi's possibly taking shelter in, giving him the opportunity to gather his bearings. 

  
George gripped around his screaming ribs as he took the first few steps, cradling his throbbing wrist to his chest as forced himself to move forwards, his mind coming up with all sorts of scenarios of what could have come of his friends.

Flashes of various images of his friends dying or in danger only seemed to spur him to move quicker, and even when his ribs let their pain be known and his breath came out in harsh pants, George waged on.

His whole body hurt at this point and it wasn't until the immediate danger had gone that he noticed just how much he hurt.  
  
Tiny cuts felt like deep slashes and bruises were hurting like they were bone deep.

His feet ached from a combination of his landing and exhaustion, blisters already appearing on his throbbing flesh.  
  
His head felt like it had been bashed onto drums and the constant throb he felt was someone repeatedly hitting said drums.   
  
At this point George would take running Currahee a hundred times over the pain he felt at that moment and that really said something.  
  
George could only take deep, agonising breaths to try and breathe through the pain, could only will himself onwards with the promise of getting to the others.

George desperately wanted to be back among his friends so he channel out the pain as much as possible and just put one foot in front of the other and hoped for the best.

In fact, George didn't even know how long he'd been walking for or how much distance he'd covered, all he knew was if he followed the tacks, he'd eventually get to a town which hopefully would end up being his destination.

And then, like a light at the end of a tunnel, a sign, hard to make out in the dark but bright enough to read in the moonlight, finally told George he was headed the right direction.

His gamble of following the Nazi's had pulled off.

He was only around 9 for so miles away from the drop zone and the relief came over him like a tidal wave, tears gathering in his eyes as he thought of how near his friends were now.

He was so close now that he could practically hear Skip and Penkala poking fun at poor Malarkey, who always seemed to be on the duo's brunt of jokes.

He could imagine Eugene Roes, their resident medics southern drawl, soothing and calm, his aura seeping out soft reassurances, almost like a warm hug.

He could see Perconte, Tipper and Talbert comparing what they'd smuggled off dead krauts, trying to top each other.

He could hear Lipton's worried voice, could hear Bull and Buck laughing and joking before giving out order's.  
  
Even Winters, Nixon, and Walsh; his CO's, came to mind. Their confidence in the men guiding them to victory, their leadership a constant source of strength and courage really living up to their reputations as the backbones of Easy.

He could so vividly see all of his brother's in arms laughing and joking, making him feel a part of something, making him feel safe that tears streamed down his face, warm and silent in the darkness of night.

George was so overwhelmed by how close he was he swore he could even hear Joe Liebgott and Wild Bill arguing yet again, their bickering over such trivial things always making George feel more human.

Those moments of such normalcy he'd experienced from the past, was making it feel like the men he'd been thrown into war with were really there with him, supporting him and comforting him like they'd done for the past few years. 

And God could George imagine Joe Toye.

That dark, tall and handsome man with a voice that made George's knees a little weak.

Joe Toye wouldn't seem the kind of man to get along with George so well, but somehow they had formed one of the strongest bonds in Easy.

Maybe opposites did attract after all, George thought to himself, panting as he trudged once more onwards, pushing himself to go faster as the thoughts of the others fuelled him on.

Now, at first glance you would think someone like Joe; a tough son of a bitch would never tolerate George, who was loud, talkative and cheerful but the older man never seized to amaze George.

Joe was unique that's for sure.

Joe was one of his first friends in easy and George couldn't thank the older man enough for supporting him through the tough first year.

Joe was strong and stubborn, he would kick George into action when he thought he couldn't go on further and joked with him when he was down.   
  
Joe had really been his foundation through much of his training and George missed him terribly now he wasn't there.

So naturally the Radioman couldn't help but think of Joe as he struggled to walk through enemy territory, alone, afraid and hurt.

Couldn't help the way that imaging Joe, simulated the feeling of being safe.

Joe had that effect on George, he always seemed to have a calming aura, like he was saying he'd keep him safe with just the way he carried himself.

It was hard to explain, how safe George felt with Joe around but he found it easier to fight through his exhaustion and pain with Joe on his mind.  
  
It was as if Joe was there next to him, pushing him on and urging him to keep going.

God, how George loved that hunk of a man.

Hours of walking felt like minutes with Joe on mind and George really regretted not knowing that fact back when he was running Currahee, because it would have made some useful information.  
  
Then finally, after what must have been hours according to the rising sun, George finally saw some sort of civilization.  
  
It didn't look like much but had George finally reached somewhere important?

Was he finally being reuinited with the other men? 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So there it is, Chapter 4!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed this one as much as the previous ones!
> 
> Please keep the comments coming, i love reading your thoughts and it really help to keep me going XD
> 
> Also a cheeky kudos or bookmark wouldn't be opposed ;) 
> 
> Until the next chapter!
> 
> \- Bookemdanno98 xx


	5. Civilization?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> George find's civilization?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Long time no update 😂  
> Just been busy with life🙃  
> Hope y'all are doing fine in this current time and I hope this gives you a bit of joy to read☺️
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN BOB AND I MEAN NO DISRESPECT TO THE REAL LIFE VETERANS.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

George couldn't believe it.

His eyes must have been betraying him for surely he was hallucinating.

But no, the rising sun of the morning was casting more light around him, and George could clearly see the out line of what looked like a bridge.

It may not be a town but it was something and George was man enough to admit he nearly burst into tears at the sight.

The archway of the bridge before him was still dark and gloomy and George could only vaguely see it but it was there.

He was so overjoyed he could kiss said bridge.

But as he walked on, his joy soon turnt to dread as he quickly spots the outline of bodies on the muddied ground.

They were scattered under the gloom of the bridge and George quickly detected that they were victims of an ambush. Wether friendly or foe, George would soon find out.

George quickly heads towards the bushes, hunching painfully low and creeping forwards, wanting to remain as undetectable as possible incase any enemies were around.

He silently creeps forwards, eyes wide and sharp as he analyses his surroundings.

Then, when he finally arrives just before the archway, he quickly recognises the dead soldiers' uniforms; they were Krauts, all crumbled and shot up but clearly the enemy.

George stays still for a few minutes, watching the bodies for movement not putting it passed the Nazi's to stage this scene to catch an allied soldier off guard.

He watches carefully for around ten minutes before deeming it safe. The bodies hadn't moved and intact around one of the bodies closer to him, he could see the pool of blood around him drying into the earth.

George scrambles down from the bushes, still remaining as quiet as possible in his decent towards the bodies. 

It was as he landed on the solid ground on which the bridge was settled, was when George spots some dead horses among the carnage.

George stumbles into the tunnel, shaking as he stepped between bodies.

The young man couldn't help feeling grief over the deaths of innocent creatures, and he quickly sinks to the floor, petting a gentle hand on one of the giant horses neck, his heart feeling heavy.

Such an pitiful death for an animal so great but he knew they were only some of the casualties of war.

The horses were surrounded by Kraut bodies, the cart they were pulling having even crushed one of the men.

Seeing all the death was a shock to George's system. He knew he'd see a lot of death in war but he couldn't help feeling sad.

These men, who lay dead around him had families too, families who'd mourn and cry over their deaths. Some of the dead even looked too young to drive let alone go to war and George had to fight away the tears that collected in his eyes.

He knew these people were the enemies, knew that who they followed was an evil man, but these boys didn't deserve death, no one did but the brutal truth of the war was obvious.

War excluded none.

It was a cruel and brutal thing that spared not a soul and George saw clearly so. Men, boys and animals, women and children, civilians and soldiers; it was only now that it truly sunk in for George. 

George sweeps his hand once more over the poor horses neck, moarning the loss of the souls around him, before he shook away his thoughts; his company was waiting and though these Krauts were dead, the rest of the enemy were not.

He swiftly moves away from the bodies, stopping only to pick up one of the guns which lay discarded on the floor, wincing when the action pulled on his screaming ribs.

George quickly heads off again, feeling safer now he was armed even if it was with an enemy gun.

George had determined from the dead Germans behind him, that he was now following in the path of allied soldiers, wether it his company or another, he didn't care. He was finally on the right track and the thought bought him a much needed boost.

His friends could have been here and by the fact that the footsteps he was following hadn't been disturbed by people or weather, he knew they were only a few hours fresh.

George's eyes traced across the ground, counting roughly six or so sets of footsteps in the muddy ground and he couldn't help but feel wistful, wishing he was with them, safer and protected.

The road he followed seemed to go on forever, a long continuous trek to seemingly nowhere.

George had tried to occupy himself by watching the scenery but soon became restless, there was only so much one man eye-spy he could take.

All he could see were trees, trees, more trees, some open fields and oh look, even more trees.

And if he was lucky enough he could see a bird or two in said trees.

Don't get him wrong, George loved the countryside, loved how peaceful and scenic it was but by God did he want to see a building or two, some sign that life went passed the one bridge he'd gone through.

Then as if some sort of higher being heard his plea, the track led up to a gate, the tracks of some sort of vehicle creating a path which led him forwards. 

George hastily opens the gate and begins to walk up the mud road. It was as if this stretch of road was used more than the one he'd just left and as he walked on he quickly discovered why.

A barn stood to the left, not massive but a decent size. 

As he walks passed, George sees a tractor inside, untouched and desolate as if the war wasn't tearing apart the world around it.

Then as he walked onwards and around a bend in the road, George finally spots, to the right,a brick house, some outbuildings and a small barn.

Maybe this place was once a farm, but now it looked deserted, left as desolate and lonely looking as the barn.

George could see this place as a once thriving home, could see children running around, could see a happy family.

But now, it looked sad as if the family who once occupied the land took the life and soul with them.

George's keen eyes are quickly diverted though, spotting a hanging body mere metres away, swaying in the gentle breeze.

As he walked forwards to the oddly peaceful yet utterly gruesome sight George could already feel his eyes watering at the sight of the man's uniform.

George could identify it anywhere and considering he himself wore the same uniform, it could only mean one thing.

The realisation that this was a paratrooper truly shook George to the core. The man hanging was one of his own, a fellow American.

George himself, had been in the very same situation just merely a day ago, the only difference was that he managed to escape and this poor bastard, he suffered the worst ending.

One of his legs were bent at an unnatural angle, suggesting it was broken or dislocated.

His uniform was ripped and bloodied and his face bared the scrapes and cuts of trees.

His pale skin had a greying tint and his eyes were clouded, opened and gazing into nothingness.

The sight of his body made George shiver and it was only at closer inspection did George realise he knew this man.

He was a young man from Massataussets, an inspiring journalist who'd dropped out of university and left behind his dreams to serve his country.

He was a Dog Company member and George remembers playing pranks on him and his buddies with Skip and Malarkey. 

George remembers his laugh as he got his revenge just a couple of months ago, when he'd stolen their clothes and made then walk back to their barracks naked.

(Although, Joe Toye, George's unusual knight in khaki green uniform, gave George his coat, which was oversized on his smaller body and saved him from full nudity. Bless that man)

George remembers only a couple of days ago bidding him a fairwell and recieving the middle finger and a "See you on the other side fucker!" from the young man. At the time his antics made George laugh but now he really wished the the 'other side' had ended better for the young man.

Jeremy 'Remy' Davies had only 20 years old and to see his lovingly named 'frenemy' dangling from a tree, broken and lifeless, made tears fall downs George's saddened face.

George slowly walks towards the fallen trooper, sending his prayers as he reached underneath his uniform, struggling with shaking hands and an aching heart to reach for Remy's dog tags.

The least George could do for his friend, was to get his tags home to his family. Even if Remy himself would never arrive, George could give them something to treasure him with, something to keep him with them.

George pockets the precious cargo before gazing at the dead trooper once more, reaching up and closing Remy's clouded eyes.

It was all he could do for him now.

Wiping away a stray tear, George steps away from his fallen friend.

He quickly spots a few more bodies, other paratroopers who lay dead a few meters apart.

The bodies are covered by their own coats and George could only guess this was the efforts of his allied soldiers before him who tried to do at least something to lay them to rest. 

George walks passed them with a sorrow but he knew he couldn't do much more for them. 

It would take to long to bury them properly and it was too risky to stay in one place too long. 

With a heavy heart, George quickly swoops down to each man and grabs their tags, tucking them with Remy's until he can send them home.

He may die before then or he may never be able to return them but at least the families had a chance to have something to remember their boys by. 

George knows he has to leave soon but before he does, he gives his fallen comrades a last place before walking away. 

The image would forever be ingrained in his memory but he hopes he could have at least given them some peace. 

By the time George had walked maybe half a mile away, his body was trembling with exhaustion, the emotions and the physicality of the day catching up on him.

Pain was also making itself known, flaring up in places he didn't know he'd been injured in.

His legs were on fire and his feet felt heavy and tingled with each step, reluctant to walk another step.

His wrist was throbbing, a purple mass of bruising and swelling making it look bigger and ugly.

His head was pounding and his eyes were drooping heavily every so often, as if two evil faries were tugging his eye lids down, tempting him to succumb to darkness.

It was evening by now and if George had to guess he'd say it was around 6.

George had no idea where the day had gone but the sun was lowering over the horizon quickly, the light of day fading into the darkness of night.

Walking the whole day had truely melded into a haze of pain and determination to get to his company, so much so, it was only now George was realising just how much he'd walked.

It had been around 24 hours now since George had a decent sleep and even then it had only been a measly four hours, his nerves over the jump keeping him up. 

It was really dawning on the small man just how exhausted he was. Now he'd realised how long it had been, he really felt like he'd been punched with a wave of fatigue.

George knew he needed to find shelter, he was beyond tired and he knew how vulnerable he would be walking alone at night as exhausted as he was. 

He couldn't afford to drop dead because he was too tired to go on and he couldn't afford to be caught by Krauts either.

He needed to find shelter and quick.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the Chapter. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed and please leave a comment and kudos if you did!.
> 
> Thanks for staying with me this long and reading this chapter.
> 
> Peace out. 
> 
> Until next time.
> 
> \- Bookemdanno98 xx

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for getting this far lol. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the first chapter!
> 
> Please comment your opinions below!
> 
> Leave a kudos if you so wish and bookmark if you want to see more.
> 
> But for now y'all. Peace ✌️
> 
> \- BookemDanno98 xx


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